


how everything sings at the end

by TalkingAboutTheWeather



Series: how the wind dances on the sand [3]
Category: Druck | SKAM (Germany)
Genre: Canon Trans Character, Dreams, Lots of Thinking, M/M, Trans Male Character, a housewarming party, depression tw, last part of this my guys, mostly its just matteo talking about it, one uncomfortable episode on the metro, the sea
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-15
Updated: 2019-09-15
Packaged: 2020-10-19 01:29:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,262
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20648981
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TalkingAboutTheWeather/pseuds/TalkingAboutTheWeather
Summary: One day, Matteo had come into his room, where David was sitting on the bed and drawing, and he had said, looking slightly muddled and holding both of their toothbrushes, “I just realized that my whole bathroom cupboard is filled with your things. Want to save even more space and move in together?”So here he is, taking his old drawings from the walls and trying to remember where the fuck he put that one old pair of shoes that he never wears but actually likes very much.“I can’t believe this is over.” Laura says, next to him on the floor.Or, a story about finding a family, ancient heroes, moving in together, pfannkuchen, lonely gods, depression, and seashells.





	how everything sings at the end

**Author's Note:**

> So we reached the last part of this verse! I actually really recommend reading the other parts before reading this, but if u dont want to, the main things to know are that davids grandfather more or less raised him, living at the north sea, telling him stories and legends, and now david sometimes sees his ghost when he needs help....and thats it, more or less.

Family is not an easy topic for David, for obvious reasons. Except for his grandfather, his biological family let him down quite severely.

His parents told him he was not their child when he came out as trans to them, and he ran away from home, leaving them behind. Sometimes he still hopes that they will call one day and ask him to come back. _We didn’t mean it, _they would say, _we miss you so much._

And then they would apologize and proudly call him _son_.

His mother, who always smelled of cinnamon, would hug him and press a kiss on his forehead and it would leave a mark, because she always wore red lipstick.

And his father would hug him as well, and laugh, and his laugh would be like thunder, because it was rare but beautiful.

That’s what David lets himself imagine when it’s late at night and he loses control over his thoughts and his mind decides it wants to hurt him a little more than usual.

He knows it won’t happen, logically. He’s twenty, now, it’s been almost six years since his coming out and they have never reached out to him.

He’s disappointed in them, in the world, but more than anything else, he’s angry with himself, for still thinking about them and still wanting them to accept him.

He’s mostly made peace with it, though, by now. He has mostly resigned himself to the fact that they won’t ever want him back.

But still.

It hurts.

  
*

“You take care of my butterfly. “ Hans smiles, “Our Matteo can be quite a handful, but he’s worth all the grey hair.”

Matteo’s flatmates (well, mostly Hans) decided to throw a goodbye party for him, as he and David have decided to move in together.

In one corner of the living room, Jonas is throwing popcorn into Carlos’ mouth, while Abdi and Matteo cheer him on.

_Our Matteo_, David grins. It feels amazing to be part of a _we_. “I’ll do my very best.” He assures Hans, and he means it with his whole heart.

Hans leans his elbow on the sofa and takes a drink out of his glass, which is filled with an unsettingly pink substance. “You’re such a decent young man, too, how did he even manage to get you?” He wonders, and his eyelids flutter with glitter. “Did I ever tell you about that time that he-“

Matteo throws an arm around David’s shoulder, almost splashing his shirt with beer, and smacks a kiss on his cheek. He grins at Hans, “Na? Were you talking shit about me?”

Hans sighs, feigning exasperation, “Speak of the devil.” Then he ruffles Matteo’s hair, “Only the highest praise, my butterfly.” And he dances away, smiling.

Matteo turns to him, raising an eyebrow, “What did he tell you?”

David snorts, “You interrupted him at the best part.”

Matteo nods, content, “Good.”

David pushes his arm away, “No, fuck you. I wanted to hear that.”

Matteo sighs, “As if all the times I embarassed myself with you aren’t enough blackmail material.”

David grins, “All right, fair. To be honest nothing will ever beat that one time you-“

Matteo shuts him up with a kiss.

  
*

  
David's latest film project is going to be about a lonely god, he has decided.

He already has ideas about long shots of the sky, of the clouds, of a person walking. Distant music.

Time passes unbearably slowly for the immortal.

Sometimes, he feels that way too, like he's lived through entire centuries and now, he doesn’t have the energy left to go through another day.

_How tiring it is to exist_, his grandfather agrees, from where he's looking over his shoulder at the drawings he's doing.

_You know, lad_, and he leans in a bit closer, _I always thought gods looked best carved in wood._

He remembers the figurines his grandfather used to carve. Slightly unsettling but beautiful, they almost had a life of their own.

He looks at youtube tutorials. He buys all the necessary knives and a piece of wood.

(Matteo asks him what he’s doing with all that stuff, if he’s planning to take up that assassin career he once hinted at. David answers he wants to beat the gods at their own game.)

He starts carving figurines.

(He isn't very good at it.)

*

  
Outside, the rain is pouring. The sound it makes when falling on the roof makes David think of footsteps dancing, or running, or both at once.

_On the first rainy night of the year, your dead ones take advantage of the sound of the rain and dance on the roof of your house,_ his grandfather had told him once, grinning at the storm that was raging on the sea outside.

_Good that it’s already March_, David thinks, now.

Laura is helping him pack his stuff into boxes, the day after tomorrow he’s going to take it to Kreuzberg, where his and Matteo’s new flat is.

They had thought about it for a while, before Matteo finally asked him if he wanted to move in with him. They more or less already lived together anyway, staying over at the other’s place every second day of the week.

It had been quite an anticlimatic occasion, really.

One day, Matteo had come into his room, where David was sitting on the bed and drawing, and he had said, looking slightly muddled and holding both of their toothbrushes, “I just realized that my whole bathroom cupboard is filled with your things. Want to save even more space and move in together?”

So here he is, taking his old drawings from the walls and trying to remember where the fuck he put that one old pair of shoes that he never wears but actually likes very much.

“I can’t believe this is over.” Laura says, next to him on the floor.

She’s moving out as well, she and her girlfriend, Aadhya, have found a smaller place more in the middle of Berlin where the rent is so low, it would be a crime not to take it.

David looks up to her and sees that she’s slightly smiling, but it’s a sad little smile, one conscious of the inherent bitterness of things ending.

David takes her hand, “Hey, what are you talking about? I’m still your brother, we will still see each other almost every day.”

Laura looks at him, her dark eyes are a little wet, “Yeah...and don’t you dare forget brunch on Sundays.”

Both Aadhya and Matteo are great cooks, Laura and David have agreed they need to take advantage of this as much as possible.

“Of course,” David nodds solemnly. Outside the rain drums on the windows.

Laura squeezes his hand, “I just...I remember first seeing you, you were so _young_, but you looked everything in the eyes. You were so brave, you never showed how difficult that time must have been for you. Except for when I asked you to move in with me. Then you cried.”

She lets go of his hand and passes hers through his hair, pushing it away from his forehead. “That’s when I knew how much you trusted me, because you showed me that part of you that still hurt. I promised myself I would look out for you, I would be your big sister, because you deserved someone to be there for you and because I know what it’s like to be left alone.”

She smiles and David smiles too, feeling like the warmth in his heart is too big for the space in his chest. “And you helped me too, so much. I stopped feeling lonely. I looked at your art and listened to your stories and ...life felt so wonderful, as if all those opportunities offered out there were for us, too.”

David knows what she means with _us_. All the young people of the LGBT+ centre. All the rejected children, the ones that get refused love by their families because of who they are. The ones that live on the margins of society. The strange ones, the ones no one wants to be.

The ones that aren’t normal.

He felt that way too, when he finally met Laura. Like the world outside was made for him, too. Like he could go on adventures, have a family, fall in love, grow up, just like everyone else.

David feels tears in his eyes, “Oh, Laura.” He says, and hugs her. “Look, you’re making me cry too.”

She laughs into his shoulder. “It’s what you deserve for the amount of things you need to pack. We’ll be here for hours, you dumbass.” She sniffles.

He grins. “Well, fuck you, too.” She smacks his shoulder.

Family is a difficult topic for David, but he has a sister, and a boyfriend, and many wonderful friends, and, somehow, that makes it easier.

“Thank you.” He whispers into her hair.

Laura’s hair smells like lemongrass, just like it did almost six years ago.

  
*

  
David has one memory of his grandfather that makes him wonder, sometimes, if he didn't know more about David than David himself.

They were picking blueberries from the woods near his grandfather’s cabin at the North Sea, it was still early in the morning and the air was cold and fresh.

Both of them already had blue tongues from eating half of the berries they actually were supposed to use to make jam.

His grandfather had taken a handful of berries and put them in the basket, then he had looked at him, for a moment, thoughtfully, and had started telling him a story.

"I haven't told you the myth of Ceneus, yet, have I, child?" David had shaken his head, his cheeks full of berries. "Well, then," his grandfather had smiled and cleared his throat, as he always did before telling a story, "there was, once, a beautiful maiden, called Cenis, who loved the sea. She was so beautiful, that every time she went to take a bath in the water, Poseidon-"

"The god of the sea!"

"Yes, exactly, the god of the sea, he marvelled at her beauty and slowly, he fell in love with her. They talked, and she fell in love with him, as well. And how could she not, when she already loved the sea? So, one day, as they were laying on the warm sand, he told her he would give her anything her heart desired. Do you know what she asked for? "

David had blinked and shaken his head, obviously.

His grandfather had pursed his lips, still thoughtfully. Still looking at him, he continued, “She asked to be transformed into a boy. That's how Cenis became Ceneus, one of the strongest heroes of his time."

David had grinned. "Cool." Then he had taken some more berries, "And Poseidon?"

His grandfather frowned, "What about him?"

"Did he still find him beautiful, like that?"

His grandfather had pushed David's hair away from his forehead, "Of course. Of course, he did. He loved him all the same."

  
*

David tries googling Ceneus today.

There aren't many results, but he finds relatively lots of different versions of the Greek myth.

In one, Poseidon rapes Cenis and she wishes for a man's body as an armour, so that no one will hurt her again.

In another one, after Ceneus dies, fighting against the centaurs, his soul becomes a golden bird that flies away.

  
*

  
David doesn't really feel like a hero.

Especially not after hours of volunteering at the LGBT+ centre and talking to young kids who went through too much pain for their age.

He thinks between how our society treats people that don’t fit the norm and centaurs, the mythical creatures might just be the lesser evil.

  
*

He is on a hospital waiting list for chest surgery.

_Does he still find him beautiful that way?_

He thinks about his grandfather's smile, the way he had said, _of course._

  
*

  
He runs in the morning, wanting to feel the tiredness in his bones.

He looks up into the sky and wonders towards what Ceneus' soul flew away.

  
*

  
He draws a bird taking flight and calls it freedom. Matteo asks him if it would be okay if he got it tattooed on his right shoulderblade.

He looks into Matteo's ocean blue eyes, and suddenly, he thinks, it's obvious.

It must have flown towards the sea.

  
*

  
The first day that he and Matteo move in, they stand in the biggest of the rooms, with their hands on their hips, tired from having dragged the furniture up the stairs, surrounded by the boxes on the floor.

They look at each other and grin.

The windows are big and the flat is filled with light.

Matteo’s hair looks golden in the sun.

It’s the end of March, and a little more than two years ago, David had seen the love of his life for the first time, trudging absently through a school corridor.

David looks at him now and Matteo’s smile is blinding.

_There’s a ray of the sun just for him,_ David thinks.

They are too tired to take the stuff out of the boxes, so the first night they sleep on their mattress on the floor, the boxes strewn around them, like a wall that keeps them away and safe from the real world.

They lie with their legs intertwined, their foreheads touching.

Matteo plays with David’s hair, curling it around his fingers and admiring how it jumps back to its original form as soon as he lets it go.

David looks at his boyfriend and feels unbearably fond of him.

“I never thought I’d get to be here,” he says.

Matteo lowers his hand unto David’s face and traces his nose. “Me neither.” He says, concentrating on David’s face. “After I moved out of my mum’s I wasn’t sure if I would ever want to live together with one single person again, one I...care so much about, you know?”

Matteo’s face looks pale in the moonlight that shines throught the window. It looks distant, almost ghostly.

“There’s something so difficult and vulnerable in it.” He whispers.

“In what?” David asks.

“In showing yourself.”

David takes his fingers away from his face and kisses them. Matteo’s eyes follow his movement. “But this is all right?”

Matteo smiles, then, and kisses him, gently. “I want to show you everything.”

David kisses him back, but it’s difficult because he has to smile, as well. “Good,” He murmurs into his lips, “Because I want to show you everything, too.”

He wants to let Matteo see him in every moment of his day, even his most unflattering and difficult ones.

He wants to open his chest and show Matteo the place that’s just for him in there, and how it’s always going to be there, how it’s always going to be filled with warmth.

How it seems, sometimes, that it keeps him alive.

  
*

Matteo gives love easily, David does not.

He doesn’t really know _how_.

He supposes that there will always be a part of him that will keep one last wall up until he can completely trust someone.

He knows that this fear comes from his experience with his parents.

He is scared that he won’t be enough for Matteo, who’s filled with love to the brim of his being. Who has a heart as big as the sky. Who loves so loud and much that it gets overwhelming, sometimes.

Meanwhile David feels hungry. It’s a hunger so big, it’s like the hunger of a god.

_All the gods are envious of the way mortals love_, a voice tells him. _It’s one of the basic rules of ancient mythology_, his grandfather whispers to him. He sounds a bit sad, a bit resigned.

David sighs, loudly.

_But what do I know, I’m dead,_ his grandfather gives his shoulder a little squeeze and smiles at him.

David gives him a strained smile back.

He wants to be honest and good. He wants to give all of himself to Matteo, to show him everything, he really does.

It’s just so difficult.

  
*

One day Matteo sat down before him at the table in the WG’s kitchen and tried to explain to him how depression feels for him.

"It’s like suddenly a switch is pulled on and the walls start closing in." he had stopped. Then he had shaken his head "No. No, that’s too dramatic. It’s more like that thing horses wear on the side of their face, you know, that makes them only see the road before them. Horse blinkers, I think they’re called. That’s what it feels like. Suddenly I’m a blinded horse and the only things I see are how stupid and lazy and worthless and selfish and useless I am. I can’t look anywhere else. It doesn’t matter that my actions might say otherwise. All the things I have accomplished are meaningless. And it won’t help either if you try to tell me all these things aren’t true. You’re on the other side of the blinding mask and it won’t mean anything to me.”

That's what's happening right now.

Matteo had gotten a distant look in his eyes this morning, only answering in monosyllabes, until shutting off completely.

He's laying in their bed, curled up. Almost like he’s trying to protect himself from himself.

David is laying beside him. He strokes his hair out of his face and leaves his hand on his cheek.

Matteo stares at the pillow.

David whispers, "You're the sky and the earth and the sea for me."

Matteo doesn’t hear him. The blinding mask is pulled up.

David puts their foreheads together, "You are so, so loved, Matteo."

The entire world lies before him. It aches and David can't do anything about it .

*

One day, when David was still very small, his grandfather had fallen asleep in the afternoon and David had wandered off into the woods, alone.

He got lost almost as soon as he lost sight of the cabin.

At the beginning, he was still happy. Jumping over roots, battling invisible monsters with sticks he found on the ground, climbing the fir trees and listening to the bird’s calls.

After a while, though, he had gotten hungry and wanted to get back.

He still remembers the feeling of panic that took over his body when he realised he didn’t know the way home and it felt like he kept turning back to the same spot.

He remembers how unfamiliar suddenly those woods seemed that he visited every year.

He remembers starting to run and crying, calling out his grandfather’s name, feeling horribly alone.

After what felt like hours of running in circles, he had sat down, leaning his back on a tree stump.

His grandfather, worried out of his mind, had found him shortly before the sky became dark.

David wonders if Matteo feels a little like this, when the depression traps him in his own mind.

Like running in circles and not finding the way out.

*

David usually passes all the time, now, at twenty, but not always.

He’s standing in the metro, mindlessly scrolling through his phone, when he feels someone’s gaze on him.

He looks up and sees a woman staring at him. He tries to ignore her and look somewhere else, but she keeps her eyes uncomfortably still and fixed on him.

Finally, he looks up again and raises an eyebrow.

She shakes her head and asks, “Sorry, are you a man or a woman? I can’t figure it out.”

He sets his jaw and presses his lips together.

It has happened before, it might happen again, but everytime, it’s like a fist in the stomach.

_What gave it away?_ He wants to ask.

_What the fuck do you care?_ He wants to shout.

_Isn’t it clear?_ A sad part of him whispers.

“I’m a man.” He says, firmly, and still feels a little like a coward.

She seems satisfied with the answer, nods and turns away.

David wonders if she feels at peace now, having cleared up a stranger’s gender. David wonders if she knows how much turmoil she has just caused him. He thinks about how much words can hurt, even seemingly innocuous ones.

David tries to concentrate on his phone again, and decides to put on his earphones.

Hozier croons into his ears: _just tell me about your day, just as it was, baby, before the otherness came._

He feels like everyone in the train is staring at him. Like everyone is wondering about his gender.

Like everyone is looking at him and not seeing _him_.

It makes his skin crawl with discomfort and he just wants to scream at everyone to leave him alone.

_I thought I was over this,_ he thinks.

He gets off at the next stop, even if it isn’t his.

*

He dreams of the sea, as often happens.

In the dream, he is standing alone on the beach and looking at the horizon.

It's all black: the sky, the water, the sand.

The moon is a pale eye looking down on him, its reflection on the water blinks with the waves.

In the dream, he takes off all his clothes and slowly walks into the sea.

The more away he swims from the beach, the more it feels like being weightless.

His strange and heavy body seems to disappear more and more into the water, until he is nothing else but his name.

It's left echoing alone in the space between the stars and the waves, like a drowned sailor's last song.

_David, David, David._

A lonely choir.

He wakes up and the waves still crash and the sea still sings in his ears.

  
*

On Monday, David makes breakfast for dinner.

He doesn't know the exact day of his and Matteo's anniversary, nor do they actually celebrate it, but having a new flat together has made him emotional, so he's decided he wants to cook something for Matteo.

Regrettably, the only thing he's capable of cooking is pfannkuchen.

So yeah. Breakfast for dinner.

He has put some candles on around in what's going to become the living room once they unpack everything and get all the furniture. He has also put some music on, a pianist that Laura loves.

He might have exaggerated with the romantic music, but then again, he's an artist.

Also, the dinner consists of pancakes, so. Something has to balance _that_ out.

He's just cracking the eggs in the bowl, when he hears someone say, _don't forget to put the cinnamon in._ He turns around and his grandfather stands next to him. David has to smile.

He knows how to make pfannkuchen, because his grandfather taught him how, all those years ago. If he hadn’t, the percentage of time David spends in the kitchen would probably go from 10% to a full on 0.

His grandfather’s special recipe contained cinnamon. It made it taste like it was always Christmas. Even in July, even in August.

David mixes all the other ingredients and adds the cinnamon.

He's just finishing putting honey and jam on them, when he hears the sound of the door opening.

"What's this smell?" Matteo calls from the corridor.

Which, admittedly, isn't the best first reaction, but David still has hope for the evening. "I'm in the kitchen!" he says.

There's a moment of silence in which David can hear Matteo shuffling around to take off his shoes. Then, "What? What are _you_ doing in _there_?"

Which, okay fair, but still that's no reason to sound quite _so_ scared.

Finally, Matteo sticks his head in the kitchen.

David holds up the plate of pfannkuchen, "I made dinner to arguably celebrate our maybe two years anniversary?" He says, and grins.

Matteo looks at him and his face flushes red.

He smiles and steps closer to him, taking his face in his hands and kissing him, "Doesn’t feel like two years at all." he whispers.

They eat sitting on the floor, between the candles and with sticky fingers.

"Bit pretentious, isn't it, though?" Matteo says, his mouth full of pfannkuchen, indicating the music stereo.

David starts to get up, "I can turn it off if you don’t like it-"

Matteo stops him with a hand on his arm. "No, I like it." He grins and there’s a bit of jam on the side of his mouth, "Thank you."

*

On Thursday, David comes home and finds Matteo sitting on the kitchen floor.

All around him are glass pieces from broken beer bottles. Matteo just sits there, looking at the floor with extremely tired and sad eyes.

David throws himself to the floor and takes Matteo’s hands, trying to see if he has accidentally cut himself on the glass. He hasn’t.

David presses Matteo’s hands to his chest. He asks, “What happened?”

_What is happening?_

Matteo slowly looks up to him. “I wanted to clean up. But then I fucked up,” he looks away again and sets his jaw, “Again.”

David strokes his face, turns it towards him, “Hey, you didn’t fuck up. It happens to everyone to break some bottles. You’re all right, okay?”

Matteo’s eyes are burning oceans, “No, I am not _all right_, David. I will never be _all right_. I will always get overwhelmed by the smallest things and I will always be an annoyance and sooner or later you will realise it and leave me!” He lets out a slightly shaking breath, “Because I am stupid and lazy and selfish and I deserve to be left alone.”

David feels his heart break in a thousand glass pieces.

“No, no, that’s not true. I will never leave you. I will always be there for you and you will never be an annoyance for me. You’re my wonderful, amazing, funny boyfriend. I would never want another.” He puts their foreheads together, Matteo closes his eyes and presses his lips together, a tear runs down on his cheek. They breath together for a bit.

After a while, David raises his fingers and passes them through Matteo’s hair, “Did you...did you take your antidepressants?”

Suddenly, Matteo pushes him away, “No, I didn’t.” His voice doesn’t leave any questions.

David looks at him and feels worried, “But your psychiatrist said-“

Matteo stands up, frowning, “Why do you listen to her and not to me? I know how I feel.”

“I just think-“

Matteo puts his hands over his face and sighs, “Keep out of this, David! This is my problem! I need to do this alone!”

David stands up, too, “No, you don’t-“

“Man, no!”

“But we’re all here to help you-“

“But I wanted to do this alone! I need to!” He shakes his head, “You don’t fucking understand, man.”

He storms out of the flat.

David runs after him, “Matteo! What are you doing?”

Matteo shouts, “Leave me alone!”

David feels like he’s been punched in the gut.

He stays behind. The door falls closed. David sinks to the floor and presses the palms of his hands in his eyes.

_I want to show you everything._

He lets himself cry. Light enters the windows and falls on the broken glass. It’s almost like the rainbows he used to make in his room at the cabin, back at the North Sea.

Suddenly, every colour shines from the floor.

*

_I want to show you everything, too._

*

He sends a message to Jonas asking him if Matteo went to his. Jonas sends him a thumbs up emoji and a message: _yeah he’s here, don’t worry, bro._

*

He dreams he's standing before a house, holding a lantern. He’s waiting for someone.

The wind is cold on his face, David puts his free palm over his chapped lips.

He is looking for Matteo.

_Until you find him_, the wind whispers, _it will stay winter._

David starts walking in the snow, holding the lantern high.

_It will stay winter_, he says in the dream, maybe to himself, maybe to everything else, _until he wants to be found._

*

The day after, David cleans up the kitchen and tries calling Matteo. Matteo doesn’t answer.

He leaves a voice message.

He lies down on the floor in the living room and looks at the ceiling.

_Time passes unbearably slowly for the immortal._

*

He lets himself into Laura and Aadhya’s flat with his spare key, “Hey!” He calls out, “Anybody home?” He needs to talk to his sister.

“I’m in the living room, David!” It’s Aadhya.

He takes off his shoes and his coat and goes to the living room.

Aadhya is sitting on the sofa with her feet on the window still, she’s reading a book. She smiles at him, white teeth flashing in her dark face. “Hey. Laura’s buying groceries. She should be back in half an hour, but you can wait here, of course.”

David smiles back at her and sits on the loveseat in front of her, “Are you cooking tonight?”

She pushes a strand of hair that has escaped her long black braid behind her ear, “Yeah, actually. Want to stay for dinner?”

David leans back, “Well, since you offer so nicely...” he closes his eyes and dramatically sighs, “Oh, _yes_, please!”

Aadhya laughs. She closes her book, “Not that you can’t come whenever you want, but was there something special you needed?”

David tries to discretely read the title of the book. “Um, yeah, I...” The author seems to be Margaret Atwood. He clears his throat. “I wanted to ask Laura’s advice for something.”

Aadhya nods. “If you want to, I can try to help, too.” Her voice is kind.

Aadhya and Laura met while volunteering at the LGBT+ centre, three and a half years ago.

As soon as Laura found out that Aadhya was a yoga instructor, she decided to attend her course. But she was so bad at it, (David has been making fun of her forever for having the athletic body of an 80-year-old) that once, after a terrifying lesson, Aadhya stopped her, took her hand and wrote her number on it, telling Laura that, _contrary to what lesbians usually think, you don’t need to undergo what’s actual physical torture for you to ask for a date._

It’s such a romantic story. David never stops cackling at it, when it gets retold.

Aadhya looks at him with calm, dark eyes and David knows he can trust her.

“You know that Matteo has depression.” Aadhya nods. “I want to help him, but...I’m not sure I know how. Sometimes I try to say the right thing, but he pushes me away. I don’t want to leave him alone through this, but I don’t want to be too much, either. I know that...he needs his space.” He sighs. “We had a fight and I just...don’t know what to do.”

He worries his bottom lip and looks at the book cover. That’s a nice graphic design, David will have to remember it.

Aadhya reaches out and takes his hand. “I know it’s extremely important for you to help him, I understand that completely, and I think you need to make it clear that you’re there for him, no matter what.” David nods, slowly. “But I also think that there’s some stuff you’ll just never be able to understand, as much as it hurts you. You love each other and you’re always together and you’re almost one single being,” _like Plato’s myth_, somewhere in his brain his grandfather reminds him, “But you’re still two different people. There’s still stuff that...maybe you don’t want to share. And that’s completely fine. That’s good. You need to keep a part of yourself to yourself, I believe.”

She looks up to the ceiling, “What a lonely thing it would be, after all, to become one single being again where once there two.”

Aadhya’s eyes look serious and a bit distant, she looks untouchable, almost like a lonely god.

Then she smiles again, her nose, with a silver piercing in it, scrunches up. “That’s a quote, actually, but I don’t remember whose it is.”

She laughs, David can see the gap between her front teeth, and, just like that, she’s her normal self again.

She squeezes his hand. “Don’t worry too much about it, now. I’ll even make Dahi Aloo, your favourite.”

David smiles at her, “Falling in love with you has been Laura’s best decision yet, honestly.”

Just then, Laura calls from the door, “Honey, I’m home!”

Aadhya grins, “Honey, your brother has come to bother us!”

Laura comes in and ruffles his hair, “Hello there, pipsqueak,” she leans over the sofa and kisses Aadhya, “And hello, beautiful woman in my home.”

Aadhya smiles at her with half-lidded eyes. For a second, David feels like he’s intruding on something private.

Then she gets up, “So, I promised David food.”

Every time Aadhya cooks, the smell of cinnamon fills the flat.

*

When David gets home, filled with spicy food and comfort, the light in the flat is on.

Matteo sits on the sofa. When David comes into the living room, he stands up and looks at him. David looks back.

Matteo’s face is pale and tired. He shakes his head, “I’m sorry.”

David takes some steps forward and opens his arms. Matteo falls into them.

David whispers into his hair, “Don’t be.”

*

They go to sleep and curl around each other.

Matteo’s body is so familiar that leaning his head on the back of his neck, putting his hands on his hips, intertwining their legs, it all feels like coming home for David.

He closes his eyes and kisses Matteo’s right shoulderblade, where a bird flies towards the sea.

*

The night after, Matteo tells him he wants to see the lights on the Spree by the Museumsinsel.

“Oh?”, David asks, tilting his head, “Is that not a bit cheesy?”

Matteo grins and shoves his face away.

They take the metro for a few stops, holding hands. The tourists around them laugh out loud.

They get out at Friedrichstraße and walk for a bit. Around them, Berlin is awake with nightlife. They reach the Museumsinsel, where only a few people are walking around. There’s a violinist in the arcaded loggia in front of the Old National Gallery.

Matteo makes him cross it until they reach its outer wall that looks over the Spree. They climb over the wall and sit on a stone overhang, letting their legs dangle over the canal.

“How adventurous,” David smiles.

Matteo sighs, “The things we do for love.”

Then he takes out a little paper towel of his coat pocket and gives it to David. “Here, for you.”

David unpacks it. It’s a seashell. He lets his fingers trail over its rills.

“It’s from my last holiday with my parents.” Matteo says, “To Italy. My mother used to go collecting seashells with me. I’ve kept this one. Here,” he leans in, takes David’s hands and guides them up to his ear. He keeps his own hands over David’s, “You can listen to the waves.”

In David’s ears the waves crash, the sea sings.

He smiles. “I’ve never been to the Mediterranean.”

Matteo shrugs, “It’s boring. But I’ll take you, one day.”

David closes his eyes, “Yes, I’d like to.”

*

The metro is closed when they want to get home, so they run.

They hold each other by the hands and run over bridges and big, empty streets, laughing, feeling like the only people in a silent world.

(Halfway through, Matteo stops to lean on his knees and catch his breath. They walk the rest of the way.)

*

  
One entire month after having moved into their new flat, David and Matteo throw a housewarming party.

“Typical,” Amira says, when they create the group chat.

All their friends are here.

Hanna and Jonas are on the balcony, talking.

Abdi is dancing with Sam and every once in a while one of them laughs out loud.

Carlos is sitting on the sofa, his arms around Kiki’s waist and leaning his head on her shoulder while she passes her fingers through his hair.

Next to them, Laura, Aadhya and Linn are talking about something, all three of them look very interested.

Hans is dancing with Mia, putting his feather boa around her shoulders and making her spin.

And David has just escaped the kitchen, where he saw Leonie and Sara (finally) making out.

He reaches Matteo, who’s grinning at Amira and a tall man standing beside her.

Matteo puts his arm around David’s shoulder, David automatically puts his around Matteo’s waist.

Amira smiles at him, “Yo, David! This is my boyfriend, Mohammed.”

Mohammed smiles, too, and shakes his hand, “A pleasure,” he says.

David nods, “Nice to meet you,” then he stops, “Mohammed, you said? That was my grandfather’s name, too.”

They talk a bit more, then Amira and Mohammed go to greet the others as well.

David and Matteo stay where they are, swaying to the music. “This is good.” David murmurs.

“What?” Matteo asks, smiling.

“This here, everything. Being with you.”

Matteo hums, stroking their noses together.

David opens his eyes and sees his grandfather standing in a corner of the room. He takes a drag of his pipe and smiles at him.

He looks proud.

David smiles back.

Matteo blows some air in his face, “What are you smiling at?”

David takes Matteo’s face in his hands and presses a slow kiss to his lips. He feels at peace.

He opens his eyes again and his grandfather is gone.

“I’ll tell you another time.” He says.

**Author's Note:**

> Wow, so..this whole thing sort of means a lot to me. I wrote it to explore my gender identity, bc i identify so much with david, to explore my fear of masculinity and my feelings of loneliness and restlessness. I also just really wanted a david backstory tbh, but then there were so many other things to write about and it kept getting longer and theres actually much more to explore!!! But i feel like this could be some sort of closure. 
> 
> So yeah, thank u for reading and thank u Didi @saveitforthesongs for reading through all my mistakes! <3 
> 
> Im @rimbaux on tumblr if u want to say hi! All comments and kudos make my day!


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